


The Jewel of Vos

by Aly208



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Drama, M/M, Romance, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-11
Updated: 2013-07-16
Packaged: 2017-12-19 04:02:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/879232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aly208/pseuds/Aly208
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Pre-Earth G1. Optimus Prime must persuade the Monarch of Vos to join the Autobot cause, no matter the price.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for this Chapter: None
> 
> A/N: To any of you waiting for the next update of “The Young and the Gullible”: I am incredibly sorry that it has been so long. I have been stressing over that story for a few months now, yet still I have nothing. It will be completed, I’ll tell you that much, but it will be put second priority to new stories, as I need more time to let my creativity flow. If you’ve been staying with me for this long, you are truly awesome! Thank you very much. :)

Optimus Prime travels to Vos in a small space shuttle. After all, traveling in a large warship would have been intimidating and frightening, as well as beyond suspicious to the distrustful, isolated Vosians. Besides, arriving in a space shuttle in a city where space shuttles originate from is a rather good idea.

"We need Vos on our side, Prime," says Prowl, who is accompanying Optimus on the trip along with a mech named Jazz. The High Council has recently elected the two as the Second in Command and the Military Strategist of the Autobot Army. Optimus barely knows them. "The cost we pay matters little, as long as Vos does  _not_ ally with the Decepticons. Otherwise, they would gain a significant advantage."

"I am aware. Again, thank you, Prowl." Optimus nods and fidgets in his seat. No matter how many times the Council or Prowl drill the message of ' _You better not screw up'_ into his processor, it does not make Optimus feel any better.

Jazz grins. "That's secret Prime code for 'leave me alone, Prowler, like you haven't already told me a billion times.'"

Prowl turns around to stare at Jazz with cool optics. "I am simply just assuring that Prime is aware of what is at stake. We cannot let the Decepticons grow more powerful, and he must be informed of it. Also, do not call me 'Prowler.'"

Optimus suppresses a sigh. He wonders why the Council would elect mechs with such discordant personalities.

Jazz just grins even wider, yet his posture is stiff against his seat. "I'm sure that Prime already knew, what with the Council practically looming over him about it. Besides, Prime'll do fine. All of us attended the Vosian custom class, not just you, Prowlie," he says.

Prowl looks severely unamused. He opens his mouth to reply, but their space shuttle escort cuts him off.

"We are currently located inside of Vos," says Nightrain. "The Royal Guards have told me that the Monarch is informed of our presence. I will fly you to the outside of the Palace, as there are no roads or land for vehicles to get by."

Optimus nods in affirmation. "Thank you, Nightrain. We truly appreciate you doing this for us." His optics flicker to the windows of the shuttle. He gapes in awe and astonishment in the way that only a foreigner seeing the world for the first time could.

Jazz moves to stand beside him. He peers out the window and lets out a low whistle. "Wow," he comments, "Vos sure is a sight to behold."

Optimus finds that he could not agree more. The lofty, spiraling towers that make up Vos are each shaped in familiar objects. Some have a sharp, very pointed apex, the sides of the building running down as smoothly as a sword's edge. Others have long sides, with flat, circular tops and not much width to them: test tubes. Vos reminds Optimus of the fairy tales his creators would tell him before recharge.

However, the tallest towers are the main attractions in this fairy tale. The sides are encrusted with resplendent gemstones that glitter and gleam, like stars begging for your attention at night when your ability to sleep has been stolen. The tops have spikes ranging from bronze to gold, and the taller a tower, the more spikes it has. And in the center of it all, in the heart of the city, there stands the tallest tower of all. Its spikes are the longest, the most plentiful, and the only golden ones. Beneath its resemblance of a crown, it has a giant, red jewel adorning its front, for all to see and admire.

The Palace.

Optimus tries not to fray his already anxiety-ridden circuits and looks away, back into the shuttle of his safe reality.

Prowl chooses that exact moment to walk over, and Jazz leaves immediately. The Military Strategist takes one look out the window and frowns. "I don't see what's so fascinating. It's just a city-state, like the thousands of others Cybertron has," he says.

"It's not built like the other city-states," counter-argues Jazz, placing his servos on his hips. "Its architecture is different, unique, as well as its decoration. You gotta be blind if you can't see that."

Prowl's optics narrow slightly. Ignoring Jazz, he turns to Optimus instead. "Prime, do you remember the designations of the Royal Family?" he asks.

"King Powerwind, Queen Moonriver, Crown Prince Thundercracker, Prince Starscream, and Prince Skywarp – in order from eldest to youngest," Optimus responds, a tint of boredom drying his tone.

"Yes. Now, describe them."

"King Powerwind is the Monarch; he can be rather emotional, loud, and has a sense of humor previously unshared by the past Monarchs. Queen Moonriver is King Powerwind's bondmate; she is cunning, quiet, and observant. Prince Thundercracker is set to be the next Monarch; he appears to act more like the Queen. Prince Starscream is considered the Jewel of Vos, admired by all; he is a mixture of the King and Queen. Prince Skywarp is still a youngling, so his position is currently unclear; he acts considerably more like the King than the Queen." Optimus lets out a brief sigh of relief.

"Good," says Prowl. He leans in and his coldly honest, real optics stare at Optimus's kinder ones. "Prime, you have to manage to persuade  _both_ the King and Queen. However, I recommend appealing more so to the Queen. I have trusted sources that say the King typically goes with the Queen's decision."

Optimus nods. "Yes, thank you, Prowl. I will keep that in mind as I recite my speech."

"That would do you well. Or rather, do  _all_ of uswell," Prowl says, leaning away from Optimus and walking off to do Primus knows what.

Jazz scoffs. "What a mech," his SIC mutters to himself, although Optimus still hears it. He silently agrees, even though Optimus knows that Prowl is irreplaceable; the High Council doesn't elect just anyone for anything, let alone for the position of Military Strategist of the Autobot Army.

Fifteen kliks later, Nightrain hovers to a stop and Optimus, Prowl, and Jazz make their way out of the shuttle. Optimus's immediate instinct when he gets on the landing pad is to stare up at the towers. They're even taller than he originally thought. He can't get a good view even when he cranes his head as far back as possible.

"Prime, I strongly recommend that this is not the time to dawdle," Prowl whispers from behind him.

Optimus nods and lowers his head, for the first time noticing a dark blue flier walking briskly toward them. The flier frowns at them before his lips pull upwards, in a manner too tightly to be considered a smile.

"Welcome to Vos, Optimus Prime, Prowl, and Jazz," the flier greets, bowing deeply. "I am Skydance, Diplomat of Vos and Secretary of Foreign Affairs."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Skydance," welcomes Optimus, bowing down just as far as the blue flier. "I am Optimus Prime. As my designation dictates, I am the Prime."

Jazz and Prowl do likewise, and Skydance raises his optical ridges in surprise.

"I am glad to see that the three of you are already quite informed of Vosian custom," says Skydance, a small, sincere smile gracing his full lips. "However, how well informed are you truly?"

With a sparkling visor and a friendly grin to boot, Jazz begins to explain the process of what they have learned. Optimus pays strict attention, just in case he has forgotten a tradition. Kliks later, Jazz finishes up and Skydance's smile grows wider.

"Excellent. It seems that you are incredibly well advised. I do not want to waste your time by teaching you things you already know, so shall I take you to the King now?" inquires Skydance.

"Yes, that would be splendid. Thank you," answers Optimus.

Skydance leads them through a myriad of hallways and rooms, all as well furnished and adorned as one may imagine a palace would be. Optimus has to force himself to remain concentrated – to not get distracted by the aesthetic charm and sophistication of every room they pass through.

Eventually, they arrive to the grand doors that lead to the throne room. Optimus tries not to focus on how he feels like purging his tanks.

"You're going to do fine, Prime, don't worry," Jazz whispers, patting his back comfortingly.

Optimus nods, running a deep cycle of air, before Skydance opens the doors and leads them inside.

Optimus stares. The walls are a gold color reminiscent to the spiked crown on top of the tower. There are five thrones in the room, each polished to perfection and garnished with tiny, yet brilliant gems ranging from colors of sleek black to pure white. Optimus looks around for the giant jewel, but cannot find it. He wonders where it is.

"The Royal Family shall be here soon. They are just finishing up breakfast," Skydance says.

"Thank you, Skydance," responds Optimus. He kneels down on the floor, directly in front of the biggest throne as is customary, and Jazz and Prowl flock to his sides.

They don't wait long. Only a klik later, Optimus hears the doors open, and the sound of chatter infiltrates the room. He soon sees five pairs of legs, each pair a different combination of colors, walk past him and sit down on the thrones. 

"Rise, Optimus Prime, Jazz, and Prowl," rumbles King Powerwind. He sounds just like Optimus had imagined. "Welcome to my beautiful realm of Vos."

Optimus slowly stands up and bows for a second time. From the corners of his optics, he sees Prowl and Jazz doing the same. 

"Thank you, King Powerwind, for allowing us an audience. It is truly an honor to be graced by your presence," Optimus greets smoothly.

King Powerwind grins, as pleasantly surprised as Skydance had been. He nods in encouragement.

Optimus turns to Queen Moonriver and bows. She has sharp, calculating optics that have a cutting stare equivalent to one thousand swords aimed at you. They remind Optimus of Prowl's own optics; they even share the same shade of blue.

"Queen Moonriver, it is an honor to be graced by your presence. Thank you," continues Optimus, and he gazes respectfully back into the Queen's optics.

Optimus feels slightly impressed with himself for doing so, as he shifts to greet the next Royal Family member. "Crown Prince Thundercracker, it is an honor to be graced by your presence. Thank you."

Although Prince Thundercracker nods staidly in response, as the heir to the throne should, he has the dim optics of an apathetic God. Optimus is already concerned for when he takes over as King.

Again, Optimus turns and bows. However, this time, he is unprepared for the sight before him.

Lips so full and curvy they could put any femme to shame. A face as dark as the mysterious night sky. Red optics more radiant, more spectacular, more utterly captivating and  _beautiful_  than any star Optimus has ever seen or imagined. They illuminate his face, like the stars brightening the darkness of the night, or the beacon of hope in a mass of murky fog. They are – no, he is –

Optimus has found the Jewel.

"Prince Starscream, it is an honor to be graced by your presence. Thank you." Optimus is surprised that he even has the ability to speak, much less that he doesn't stumble or stutter.

The beautiful Prince Starscream, with his raised optical ridge and his frown, does not look very impressed. However, his already luminous optics gleam with an undeniable interest.

Optimus's optics linger a moment too long on Prince Starscream before he turns. He bows and welcomes Prince Skywarp, whose optics are not nearly as lucid – although Optimus believes that no one's will ever be – but are teeming to the brim with humor and mischief.

Finished with the traditional greetings, Optimus looks at King Powerwind, who nods in approval.

"I grant you full permission to speak. What is it that you have traveled all the way to Vos for, Optimus Prime?"

"King Powerwind, I have come in need of dire assistance," and so Optimus begins his millionth recitation of the speech that the High Council has constructed so carefully and cleverly for him. He remembers to pause for dramatic affect at certain places, to keep his voice calm and controlled yet his optics wide and desperate, and always to have his optics on at least one member of the Royal Family.

When he finishes kliks later, Optimus is met with an incredibly grim, shocked silence. That's how he knows he has done his part correctly.

"Optimus Prime," King Powerwind begins, expression stricken and optics wide, "if things are truly as hideous as you say they are…"

"Your Highness, it is even worse. The Decepticons have already caused such significant damage, it will take us vorns and vorns to repair what they have already done. If we do not stop them, I do not want to see what the future will be like. Nor do I want to see what your gorgeous kingdom will become," Optimus says with a sorrowful glint in his optics.

King Powerwind's lips thin out. "This is a dangerous situation we are in, and I require more time to consider it. I must speak with my Royal Advisors at once. I will return." He stands along with the Queen, and the two walk out of the room as briskly as possible.

Optimus is alone with his men and the Royal children. He tries hard not to stare at Prince Starscream.

He fails.

However, when Optimus guiltily lifts his head up, unable to suppress his urge, he finds that Prince Starscream is already staring at him.

The Jewel of Vos studies him, stunning features shifting from aloof to curious. Optimus tries his hardest to not let his optics wander over the Prince's frame. Neither of them says anything. The whole room is silent and still.

It takes a considerable amount of time before the King and Queen return.

"Optimus Prime," King Powerwind begins, staring down at Optimus, "Vos has agreed to join the Autobot cause."

Optimus runs a cycle of air that he didn't know he was holding.

"Yet there is one problem," continues King Powerwind, optics narrowing. "My kingdom has been isolated for an incredibly long time. There will be many who will be reluctant to join forces with your army, and I will not force my citizens to fight for you if need be. To gain more support from my people, the Autobots and Vos need to have a symbol of trust for our allegiance.

"That is why I am requiring you to bond with my child, Starscream."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this Chapter: None

Silence.

And the Jewel of Vos  _shrieks_.

"Me? Bond with  _him_?" Prince Starscream stands from his throne and stabs a finger at Optimus, although he stares at his father. His optics, no longer gems or stars or a beacon of hope, are lava gushing from his dark volcano of a head. "Father, how  _dare_  you?"

Optimus flinches. Prince Starscream doesn't sound at all what Optimus had imagined. He imagined something sweet, like the luscious taste of eating rust sticks for the first time. Or perhaps something more smooth, like the way high-quality energon flows effortlessly down one's throat. Instead, Prince Starscream has a voice so grating and high-pitched it makes everyone in comparison sound like aristocrats.

King Powerwind is the cooling wind to the Prince's fervent eruption. "Starscream, when you sit back down and calmly apologize to me, as a prince should, then we will speak."

"You arrange my bonding with this – this complete stranger, and you expect me to be  _calm_?" Prince Starscream cries.

King Powerwind must understand his son's anger, since he leans back into his throne and doesn't make a second comment on the Prince's behavior. He is quiet, contemplative. Optimus wonders whether he's less emotional than the Council had said.

"The Prime is not a complete stranger. We already know that he is polite, reasonable, and strong. He's the perfect bondmate. What more could one want?" says the King.

The wind sweeps heat from the lava over to Optimus's cheek plates. He's suddenly grateful for the mask covering his face.

"B-But, Father, he's a," Prince Starscream's voice becomes a deadly hiss, " _ground-pounder_."

King Powerwind sighs. "Starscream, I know we are people of tradition, but we must learn to change. War is upon us. We cannot – and will not – remain the same. You must do this for the greater good, for our people."

"But-"

"For our people," King Powerwind cuts in sharply, optics narrowing and daring for further objection.

Prince Starscream says nothing. Instead, he looks directly at Optimus. His once liquid optics begin to smolder, the lava gradually beginning to cool and harden. Optimus has no idea what the Prince sees.

"I am the Jewel of Vos," says Prince Starscream, staring into Optimus's optics. Slowly, while still making optic contact with Optimus, he turns back to his father. "Our citizens love me. They will not sit idly by as their Jewel is taken away to another city-state." He turns back to Optimus again, optics flaring with a stubborn, brief beam of fire.

"They will not stand for such injustice. They will protest. They will take back their Jewel." The Jewel finally sits back down. Optimus stares.

Full lips curvier than a serpent. Dark face as tricky and dangerous as an alleyway in the dead of night. Red optics dim but slowly filling up with magma for the next eruption.

"And you will regret everything."

* * *

"Please excuse my son for his behavior today. He is always melodramatic about everything he does," King Powerwind says, as he walks with Optimus, Jazz, and Prowl down a hallway with walls the color of sapphires. "I am pleasantly surprised that you have still agreed to my terms."

"As you said yourself, Your Highness, we must do this for the greater good. My thoughts and opinions matter little, as long as we stop the Decepticons," Optimus states. He wonders who decorated the Palace.

King Powerwind looks at him blankly. Gone are the thoughts of aesthetics, instead nervous thoughts shoot through Optimus's processor like gunfire. However, the King merely smiles, pats him on the back, and says, "I like you, Prime."

Optimus nearly sighs in relief. "Thank you, King Powerwind. I am glad that I've made such a good impression on you."

King Powerwind hums. He doesn't say anything until the four of them reach a door painted silver. "These will be your guest rooms," he says, pointing to three doors. "I am glad that you have accepted my offer to remain here for a bit. It will be much easier to discuss things over now."

"Thank you, Your Majesty, for the offer. We appreciate this very much."

"I would also like to invite all three of you for dinner tonight," the King proposes. "I understand that most of your time in Vos will be spent doing business, but eating meals with us would be lovely. Plus, you can spend time with your future bondmate, Optimus Prime." He winks.

Optimus almost splutters. "I, um – I mean, thank you, King Powerwind! We accept your offer."

"Excellent. I will send someone to call you down for dinner. Until then," King Powerwind says, and Optimus, Jazz, and Prowl hastily bow before him. The King smiles and nods before leaving.

"Prime, can we talk in your room?" asks Prowl, but his tone is firm and his optics are narrowed in a way that leaves no room for arguing.

"Of course, Prowl," Optimus responds nonetheless. He opens the beautifully painted door and lets the two enter before him.

"This is a disaster," Prowl says immediately, crossing his arms over his chassis. "The leader of the Autobots is getting  _bonded_? Right now, when Cybertron is a step away from civil war? It's not logical."

Jazz frowns. "Well, what else was he supposed to do? It's the only way to get Vos to ally with us. And you said so yourself, 'The cost we pay matters little, as long as Vos does not ally with the Decepticons.'"

Prowl's lips thin out. "Yes, that is true, and Prime did make the correct choice by accepting their terms. However, I did not expect the King to bond his son off like that. I do see the logic in doing so, to unite Vos with us even further, but it has a significant chance of backfiring, as Prince Starscream told us earlier," he explains.

"I am sure that the citizens of Vos will eventually accept us, even if it takes a long time," says Optimus. "They will understand the threat of the Decepticons soon enough. And Prince Starscream is still their Jewel, the beloved representation of Vos. They will want to follow him – not necessarily take him back."

Prowl turns to him. "But that's not the  _only_ problem, Prime. What if the Prince dies? You'll go down with him, and vice versa. With both of you gone, we will not have you as our leader, and Vos will no longer feel obligated to stick around. We also cannot let the Decepticons know that the Prince is your bondmate, or they'll kill him and, subsequently,  _you_.

"And how will we accommodate Prince Starscream? Surely, he'll be used to being pampered and expect everything to go his way. Will he actually fight in battle? If so, we will have to take extra precaution with him, and how experienced is he? If not, what will he do instead? Plus-"

Optimus doesn't want to interrupt, but he does, regardless. "Prowl, why don't we contact the Council? We can find out what they want us to do," he offers.

"Good thinking, Prime," Jazz agrees, nodding. "I'm contacting them right now on my comm. link."

Prowl's optics narrow further before he sighs. "I suppose that  _is_ a good idea," he grumbles. He looks up at Optimus, expression always frank. "And Prime, perhaps the three of us should stay in your room at the moment? Until we speak with the Council and discuss this situation."

"Of course, Prowl. Stay as long as the two of you like."

* * *

Prowl and Jazz leave three joors and sixteen kliks later.

The moment the duo closes the door behind them, Optimus groans and rubs his forehead with a gentle servo. The Council had most definitely  _not_ been pleased with their predicament.

Optimus sighs. Hoping to take his mind off the political mess that's supposed to be his future marriage, he takes a good look around his room.

The berth is gray, the normal color of berths, but beneath Optimus's touch, it is incredibly soft and gentle for metal. His fingers linger for a few moments before he moves away. He wonders what it's made from. The thought doesn't last for long as he notices that the walls are sapphire blue, like the hallway. Optimus feels a bit nervous.

Exactly how important are gems to Vos?

He pushes back those thoughts and continues to look around. There are two windows, with drapes consisting of swirling patterns of ruby red and obsidian black. Gently feeling and pushing back the smooth curtains, Optimus finds himself gaping once more. He receives a breathtaking view of the fantasy land called Vos, with its spiraling towers and colorful sky and beautiful citizens and – and –

It's everything Optimus has wanted.

Optimus stands there for around ten kliks – at least, he thinks so, because he loses track of time – and simply gazes at Vos.

Eventually, he drags himself away from the window and to the berth when he realizes how exhausted he is.

Optimus turns off his optics and falls into a blissful recharge. He dreams of the curtains, the jewel, and Prince Starscream – in that order.


End file.
